Early morning.
Bright sunlight pierced through the air and struck the surface of the lake.
Filtered through the deep water, it turned soft and mellow, casting serpent-like shadows across the room through the glass windows of the Slytherin dormitory.
Caelan woke early and spent a moment admiring the giant squid at the bottom of the lake through his window.
Word had it that Hogwarts’ Black Lake was enchanted so that any student who fell in would be lifted back up by the giant squid.
One had to admit, it was quite a thoughtful touch.
He just wondered how much Dumbledore paid the lifeguard giant squid.
Picking out the books he would need for the day from his trunk, Caelan headed down the spiral staircase toward the Great Hall.
He wasn’t in a hurry to eat, however, and instead found a spot with a good view to observe the students on their way to class.
Hogwarts had a total of one hundred and forty-two staircases, almost all of which moved on their own, and some even vanished unexpectedly.
To make matters worse, some doors weren’t really doors at all, leading only into solid stone walls.
This design had originally been meant to defend against Muggle witch hunts, but nowadays, the ones most affected were the students themselves.
Right on cue, Caelan watched Malfoy miss a step and fall straight off the staircase.
If special magic hadn’t been cast here to ensure young witches and wizards landed safely, Hogwarts would have gone out of business long before Voldemort ever got involved.
“Damn it!” “Now I have to climb up from the ground floor all over again!” “I should really tell my father to tell Dumbledore to tear all these staircases down!” Malfoy cursed as he began his climb back up from the ground floor.
Caelan actually quite liked that staircase; falling off meant going straight to breakfast with maximum efficiency.
By the time the ninth student tumbled down from that trick step, Caelan had finally figured out the movement pattern of the stairs leading to the classrooms.
After all, he had plenty of people testing the waters for him.
For now, though, his top priority was getting breakfast.
Breakfast was fairly grand; the Hogwarts house-elves prepared a wide array of dishes for the students.
Of course, no one should hold high expectations for British cuisine.
It was hardly better than German jokes or American history.
After gnawing on a roasted chicken leg, Caelan sliced some sausage, grabbed a few side dishes, and assembled a generously filled sandwich.
He was good at pairing ingredients, so it tasted much better than standard British fare.
It even gave him a faint sensation of eating a meat burger from back home.
While he ate, Caelan clearly felt the passing students looking at him differently.
Many hurried past his table, shooting him quick glances, while others stood at a distance whispering.
Caelan found it a bit odd.
*Could they want a bite of my sandwich?* *If you want one, make it yourself.
What are you staring at me for?* Under the gaze of his schoolmates, Caelan quickened his pace.
Finishing his meal, he picked up his textbooks and prepared for class.
The moment he stepped out of the Great Hall, he saw Ron fall off the stairs.
Number ten.
A nice, even count.
Caelan flicked his wand, using a Levitation Charm to catch Ron and gently push him back onto the staircase.
“Thanks,” Ron said, poking his small head over the stairs.
Applying the trial-and-error experience he had gathered from his fellow students, Caelan stepped onto the stairs.
Soon he reached the vanishing step, where Harry and Ron were surprisingly still standing.
“We wanted to thank you.” “Oh, come off it, we don’t know how to get to the classroom.
We’ve been wandering around here for ages.” It wasn’t until Caelan walked right up to them that Harry and Ron recognized him as a Slytherin student, which left them feeling rather conflicted.
After all, Slytherin had a certain reputation, and with Malfoy constantly bringing “glory” to the house, almost no one in Slytherin seemed like a good person to them.
Even if the person standing in front of them had the surname Prewett.
“I’ll lead the way,” Caelan offered.
Harry and Ron gave quiet nods and followed behind him.
“Hey, Harry, I heard Slytherin almost had a brawl in their common room yesterday.
Chris Nott lost all his hair.” “Who did it?” Ron gestured with his chin toward Caelan in front of them.
“Slytherins just aren’t united.” “Is he really a cousin of yours?” Harry asked in a low voice, casting a glance at Caelan’s back.
“Not sure yet.” Ron popped a Chocolate Frog into his mouth and pulled out the card to check.
“Dumbledore again.” This lesson was Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration class, shared between Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Hermione had arrived early and sat in the front row, eagerly reading ahead.
Or rather, reviewing, since she had already memorized the entire textbook.
Professor McGonagall had not yet arrived; there was only a tabby cat perched on the teacher’s desk, occasionally licking its paw.
The young witches and wizards were in no rush to enter, standing around the corridor in small groups.
Stepping through the door, Caelan spotted the cat sitting on the desk right away.
The cat turned to look back at him.
Caelan could clearly see the markings around its eyes resembled Professor McGonagall’s square spectacles.
Anyone thinking with their big toe could tell who this was.
Caelan really wanted to go up and pet it, then feign ignorance to get away with it.
As a first-year student who had just enrolled, failing to recognize Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration was completely understandable, right?
Perhaps because he stared for too long, the cat jumped down from the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall in the blink of an eye.
“Good morning, Professor McGonagall.
I didn’t realize it was you,” Caelan greeted her, putting on a surprised look.
Missed opportunity!
Professor McGonagall transforming into a kitty to greet freshers only happened this once; there wouldn’t be another chance to pet Professor Cat later.
Hesitation truly meant defeat!
“Good morning.” Professor McGonagall felt a slight spark of surprise inside and adjusted her spectacles.
She wasn’t entirely sure whether Caelan had recognized her just now.
Hearing Caelan’s voice, Hermione raised her head from her book as if sensing his presence, waving at him.
“Hurry, Caelan, sit here!” “Thanks, Hermione.” Harry and Ron exchanged a look and headed toward the back rows.
“Good morning, Caelan,” Neville leaned forward from a back row to greet him.
“Good morning, Mr.
Longbottom.” “How was your night?” Hermione asked.
Setting the textbooks for class on the desk, Caelan answered, “It was fine.
Everyone was quite warm and welcoming.
I’ve really hit it off with them.” Slytherins…
warm and welcoming?
Even coming from Caelan, the statement struck Hermione as thoroughly strange.
Because the two of them sat in the front row, the young witches and wizards entering the classroom saw them first.
Everyone’s eyes turned odd.
A Slytherin sitting next to a Gryffindor looked bizarre no matter how one sliced it.
While mixed seating wasn’t forbidden, students from these two houses usually kept a crystal-clear boundary between them even during shared classes.
Once everyone arrived, Professor McGonagall began the lesson.
Strict by nature, she was even more rigorous during class, speaking without a shred of leniency.
“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, scanning the room like a strict head teacher so every student felt her gaze directly on them.
“Anyone playing the fool in my class will leave and not come back.
You have been warned.” Then McGonagall flicked her wand, transforming her desk into a pig.
Hermione stared with wide eyes, trying to spot any flaw or imperfection on the pig.
But she gave up quickly—the pig was far too convincing.
Seeing the students’ stunned expressions, McGonagall looked thoroughly pleased.
“Before you begin waving your wands, we need to cover the foundational knowledge of Transfiguration.” The outline of the first class in almost any subject was largely the same.
First came the general framework, effects, theoretical basis, and historical origins of the discipline.
Although these things had little direct bearing on performing Transfiguration itself, the main distinction between formal mastery and crude guesswork lay in systematic structure—hence the saying, “A single move reveals one’s school.” After a long, dry theoretical lecture, Professor McGonagall finally allowed the young students to pick up their wands and attempt to turn a match into a needle.
With the help of Spell Inspiration, Caelan mastered the Transfiguration spell in no time.
“Very good.” McGonagall picked up the embroidery needle Caelan had produced and nodded with satisfaction.
“Five points to Slytherin.” Hermione succeeded shortly after, winning five points for Gryffindor as well.
A dynamic equilibrium of sorts.
Neville struggled for most of the class, only managing to sharpen the head of his match.
Still, he was quite pleased; a few more practice runs and he was sure he’d succeed.
During the break.
Chris Nott reluctantly stood up from his seat and shuffled over to Neville.